


Run Away (But We’re Running in Circles)

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Reylo - Freeform, Teacher Assistant/Student relationship, rating for future chapters, tumblr prompt fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It is Fall when they first meet. Central Park is painted a riot of yellows and oranges, the trees struggling to cling onto what little of summer remains and losing to the oncoming chill. Two strangers pass each other and keep going—they are two of hundreds. Two of millions. But she notices the golden shine of the setting sun reflecting off his raven hair and he walks away with the scent of her perfume, woody and warm, tickling his nose.It could hardly be called a meeting.Three days later Rey enters the lecture hall for the first class of her very last semester of college, and a woody, warm scent hits Ben Solo’s nose from where he stands at the podium while students walk by.(A college AU)
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Reylo
Comments: 26
Kudos: 195
Collections: WIPs





	Run Away (But We’re Running in Circles)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt Fill: “ College AU reylo where Ben is a TA for a class that Rey is taking and they start out arguing about a grade that Rey got and then slow start to develop feelings for each other after they become friends!” 
> 
> This was meant to be a short one-shot but it’ll probably be a 3-chapter deal because I never know when to stop.

It is Fall when they first meet. Central Park is painted a riot of yellows and oranges, the trees struggling to cling onto what little of summer remains and losing to the oncoming chill. Two strangers pass each other and keep going—they are two of hundreds. Two of millions. But she notices the golden shine of the setting sun reflecting off his raven hair and he walks away with the scent of her perfume, woody and warm, tickling his nose.

It could hardly be called a meeting. 

She forgets about the tall, handsome guy with the awkward gait of a body carrying a soul that’s too large, and the scent of her perfume fades too quickly to remain in his memory. 

It is hardly a meeting—hardly anything. 

Three days later Rey enters the lecture hall for the first class of her very last semester of college, and a woody, warm scent hits Ben Solo’s nose from where he stands at the podium while students walk by him to their seats. He frowns, a memory of crisp cold air stirring before being promptly drowned by a sip of much needed caffeine. It’s too early and he’s not here to babysit entitled little brats whose mommies and daddies paved the way to NYU’s halls for them. He’s here to become a historian and a researcher, not a professor. Unfortunately, being a teacher assistant looks good on a resume, and the actual professor is too busy doing the historical research Ben wishes _he_ were doing. 

Rey finds her seat at the back of the room and yawns. The halo of warm light from the projection on the wall makes the new professor’s hair glow and it stirs a memory of falling leaves but she thinks it must be from her tired, watering eyes. She closes them for a second, wishing she were in bed rather than a lecture hall. She’s here to be an engineer, not a historian, but she has a GPA to keep up if she wants to maintain her scholarship, and the class is a requirement. 

She sighs and she doesn’t notice that her eyes have remained closed, and by the time she opens them the hall is empty except for one person. 

He’s sitting next to her with a history book and a pile of notes on his lap, staring at the blank wall ahead with a frown on his face that only deepens when she startles awake. He turns to look at her. 

“Good nap?” he asks, and his voice would be lovely and comforting with its deep rumble if not for the tone in which he asks. Her hackles raise immediately. 

Dark, soulful eyes search her face with a sheen of irritation when her eyes water again with a suppressed yawn, but Rey’s too busy trying to shake her mind for a reason as to why he looks so familiar.

“I’m sorry—do I know you?” she asks before she can help herself. His gaze hardens.

“I should hope so. I just spent the last hour giving a lecture in front of you, though seeing as you slept right through it—“ 

Rey sucks in a harsh breath and bites her tongue. Of course. Her professor. She hadn’t really noticed his facial features in the dim room before she’d fallen asleep. Her face goes red both from embarrassment and indignation. It wasn’t her fault that she had to work long nights in order to afford housing, which her scholarship did not cover. Or food. Or books. 

Her eyes swing to the book on his lap. It’s clearly well loved. The edges are worn and the binding weak, and there are almost as many post-it notes sticking out of it as there are pages, and he thumbs at them over and over. Hers is still safely in her bag, untouched. She stares at his large hands wondering why he still seems familiar, and trying to recall why means she takes way too long to offer him the apologetic groveling he’s clearly waiting for. He clears his throat. She startles. 

“Sorry, I—“

He interrupts, holding up the same large hand she’d been staring at to silence her. 

“Save it.” He begins standing up, already having decided he doesn’t actually care for her explanations. “I’m not your father, and whatever you’ve been up to is not my problem. The only thing I care about is that you hand in the essay due next week on what was discussed today, and that next time you’ll be able to stay awake, Miss—“

She wants to snark at him. Her fists ball up on her lap and his eyes travel to them, a brow arching like he’s ready to stop pulling his punches if she so much as utters the wrong word. Rey relaxes her hands.

“Jakken,” she says. The fate of her grade is in this asshole’s hands, after all. “Rey Jakken.” 

Ben nods, his jaw relaxing as her fingers do. “Try not to fall asleep again in class, Miss Jakken.” 

Rey stares at him as he walks away then, struggling to get massive legs through the tiny space left between rows of seats. 

Jerk. 

Rey looks at her phone. She’s late for work. She forgets about the fact that she’s seen that awkward gait before, too busy trying to rush out the door.

****

“Sorry! I know I’m late!” Rey huffs, gasping for air as she bends over at the waist and holds onto her knees. She’d practically ran from the lecture hall. She’d continued sleeping for another twenty minutes after the lecture had ended.

Rey throws her bag behind the counter and grabs an apron and a name tag, her boss watching her with a mixture of pity and concern. 

“Relax, new kid,” he says, shaking his head as he passes her a pair of tongs to grab a pastry for a customer. “It’s a coffee shop, not Wall Street, though try not to make it a habit, yeah?”

She nods and thanks him while she busies herself with grabbing the pastry then throws herself into manning the coffee machines, her annoyance from before completely forgotten until Poe says he’s gotta piss and to please man the counter. Which would be fine, if her first customer wasn’t The Jerk Professor—

“You,” he says, completely tuning out the complaining redhead at his side who’s already complaining that the cup of Starbucks he’s holding would taste so much better than anything _Ben_ could order here. 

So—now she knows his name: Ben, The Jerk Professor. 

Rey scowls. 

****

Ben stares at the slip of the girl behind the counter and wonders how he’s managed to piss off whoever is in charge of the universe to deserve having his barista be the same girl he’d left with a red, angry face not but an hour prior. She’ll probably spit in his coffee now. 

Ben purses his lips and rattles off his order, not really paying attention to what he’s ordering. He flees the coffee shop as fast as his very long legs will carry him—which is fairly fast, honestly—as soon as she hands him his cup, then remembers _he’s_ the one who has any right to be annoyed. He grunts at whatever Hux is saying but lets it wash over him until they get back to campus, then slams his office door in Hux’s face without a backward glance.

Of course it had to be _her_. Ben sighs, running his fingers through his hair over and over before dropping into his chair to plan next week’s lesson. Hopefully this will be the first and last time he’ll have to talk to her directly. It’s a big class, after all.

****

The next time they meet it’s not on purpose, but it happens anyway. The train stations are crammed with people trying to run away from the plummeting temperatures, huddling on the platform as they wait for their trains to arrive. 

They exit their trains onto the same platform and collide in the crowd, Rey stumbling into his solid chest and Ben trying to catch her slight body before they topple over. He ends up on his knees with her draped over his lap and he’s already apologizing profusely until she looks up. He tenses. So does she.

A minute passes by where the crowd parts around them and disappears between one foggy cold breath and another. Rey forgets to blink, falling into his honey colored eyes, and Ben finally notices she’s got freckles under a smear of something dark and oily on her face. 

The trains depart.

They’re the only ones left on the platform. 

“Ah—“ he starts, and the sound jolts her into action. She scrambles to get off his lap from her undignified sack-of-potatoes position, and they both flinch at the shock of static when he relinquishes his hold, their hands touching as he tries to help her up. He’s still kneeling. 

It takes him considerable effort to get himself on his feet.

“Sorry, I didn’t see—“ Rey stops mid sentence when the silence registers, and with it the fact that she’d missed her train. She was going to be late. _Again_. “Shit!” 

“Beg pardon?” 

She notices it a second too late. He’s tensing up again. She inwardly groans.

“No, just—“ she bends down, furiously picking up her belongings from where they scattered when they collided, and stuffing them back into her tattered totebag. He crouches to help her and she would find it sweet if not for the fact that she’s already pissed off, so she glowers at him. “I don’t need help.”

“Miss Jakken.” 

She ignores what he has to say next, already shoving her bag over her shoulder and sprinting for the stairs, only to be yanked back by the elbow. Her professor grunts, then lets out a loud sigh and runs angry fingers through his hair. 

“Wait.” He says. It sounds too much like a command. Rey both stiffens and liquefies, body undecided on how to respond, before she grinds her teeth and pointedly stares at where they’re connecting. He drops her elbow like it burns him. 

She’s standing on the second stair step and eye level with him, and for the first time she realizes just how _tall_ he is. Tall and intimidating.

“Are you always so domineering?” She asks. 

****  
  


_Yes_ , he wants to say.

 _NO_! His brain shouts.

This girl has a way of flustering him beyond belief. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” 

“Right.”

“I would like to rectify that.”

He watches her lips purse.

“No, thank you.”

Ouch.

Ben Solo doesn’t know how to handle rejection well. It was well meant, whatever she may think, even though it’s not like he has any reason to extend an olive branch. _He_ was not the one falling asleep in class. Her terse response immediately straightens his spine, and he remembers that he’s her teacher. He nods. Right.

“Right. See you next week, Miss Jakken.”

“Bright and early,” she says, but there’s such venom in her voice he starts to wonder if he really is as much of a jerk as she seems to believe he is. 

He watches her run up the grimy stairs, tight little bum jiggling slightly in her inhumanly form fitting leggings, and shakes his head before turning to leave (not escape—no, never escape), choosing to exit the platform in the opposite direction. 

Five minutes later and a block and a half away, he’s hit with the realization that he never mentioned the smudge on her cheek, and why he kept getting slammed with deja vu in her presence.

He stops for a second in the middle of the sidewalk, staring ahead while people mutter at his very large body blocking their path, before he does a sharp about turn and heads down the street toward Central Park. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me elsewhere: @Lucidlucy on Tumblr, @lucidlucyxo on Twitter.


End file.
